The Other Side

Learning survival skills for rough waters.

by Tammy Darling

“Build a boat.”

My husband clearly heard these words during a time of prayer and shared them with me.

“What do you think it means?” he asked.

“I have no idea. Maybe we’re going on a cruise,” I joked.

Off and on we pondered the statement. For weeks. We simply could not figure out the meaning behind “Build a boat.”

Peace and fear

Several weeks later, my husband was diagnosed with thyroid cancer. He had experienced pain on the right side of his neck, which radiated down his chest. While we still didn’t know what “Build a boat” meant, we knew it was somehow connected to what we were going through.

From the very beginning, my husband had perfect peace. Me, not so much. I feared losing my husband of nearly thirty-five years. I had known him since I was nine years old.

Though I took my fear to God and focused on relevant Bible verses, my mind and heart failed to settle down. At twelve years old, my husband lost his father to cancer, but he knew he was going to be okay.

Unsettling surgery

My husband’s thyroid was completely encased with a mass, so the doctor said the thyroid would need to be completely removed. He was convinced the surgery would take care of this “easily treatable” cancer and all would be well.

Given all these positives, I was not prepared for the surgeon’s words to me after a three-hour operation: “The surgery didn’t go as planned.”

While this surgeon is top-notch in his field, he is also widely known for his bluntness. My heart hit the floor. I held my breath as the surgeon continued: “The mass was larger than I thought . . . attached to the back of his throat . . . couldn’t get all the cancer . . . the right side of his throat is paralyzed.”

A T-Rex walking into the waiting room couldn’t have been more shocking. I was speechless. When the surgeon asked if I had any questions, all I could do is shake my head indicating no.

Actually, I had questions. But shock kept me from speaking.

Through the storm

Our prayers became even more fervent that God would bring complete healing to my husband. While we would have loved to have seen an instantaneous healing, it seems God had other plans. He wanted to take us through. Through the trial. Through the uncertainty. Through to the other side.

It was then that I realized why God told my husband to build a boat. We would need it. I had just been reading Mark 4:35, where Jesus told His disciples, “Let us go over to the other side.”

Long story short: Jesus fell asleep. A storm arose. Jesus calmed the storm and, subsequently, His disciples.

Understanding

Suddenly, it was all coming together for me. The boat that the Lord told my husband about was being tossed about in a storm we never saw coming.

My husband would be OK; I mostly believed that now. But I also knew that Jesus wanted us to go through with His help. I had no idea how long it would take to get to the other side.

Treatment

Because all the cancer could not be removed, further treatment would be required. This next step came in the form of a $48,000 radiation pill, with my husband shut up in our bedroom for three days in solitary confinement because he would be highly radioactive.

Our daughter had to move out for three days. I had to move to the living room at the other end of the house and deliver his meals to the outside of the bedroom door. When I left, he would quickly open the door and retrieve the tray.

After the isolation was over, it was a long eight-month wait until a full body scan would reveal if there was any remaining cancer.

Moments in the middle

I’m going to be 100 percent honest here. This going to the other side stuff was hard. Those middle moments can try one’s faith like nothing else can. All we could see were waves battering the sides of the boat and feel the wind tossing us back and forth. Perhaps that’s why Jesus asked His disciples after He calmed the storm, “Why are you afraid? Do you still have no faith?” (v. 40).

As the man did whose son needed deliverance in Mark 9:24, I could only reply, “I do believe; help me overcome my unbelief!” (9:24).

Conquering cancer

Daily, I took a deep breath and repeated out loud, “We’re going to the other side.”

Eight months after the radiation pill, a full body scan revealed that my husband was indeed cancer free! The cancer was eradicated, just not in the way or the timing that we had hoped.

Growth

We built that boat and made it to the other side of the cancer journey. Only then did I realize that we needed those middle moments. They are precious, sacred even. Holy. I realized that some of the greatest growth comes by going through something. Certain lessons must be experienced to be fully grasped. That’s how my faith and trust in God grows.

Too often I’ve tried to go around an unwanted situation, preferring to be comfortable and live life sailing on smooth waters. But that’s not what I’m called to. Jesus clearly said that in this world we would have tribulation (John 16:33). Therefore, I will need to go through some things to make it to where God wants me to be.

Uncertain future

Knowing this is true, I’m now better prepared for the middle moments. There’s more trust and less fear. More faith and less unbelief. I need that because my husband’s throat is still partially paralyzed.

Will God heal that too? Are we still traveling in the boat through this throat trial? I don’t know. What I do know is that it’s not so much the destination as it is the journey. And sometimes the journey is the destination. The storm may still be raging, but I want to sleep amid the storm as Jesus did, trusting Him.

Faith

Sometimes it’s easier to believe in the parting of the Red Sea for millions than it is to believe that God will make a way beyond my current struggles.

But He does. Getting there may not look like what I expected it to, but it will happen. It may not be comfortable, but I’ll get there. It may not be problem-free, but I’ll get there. It may be fraught with opposition, detours, and even pain, but I’ll get there.

The key is not going around, but through — with Jesus in the boat.

Scripture quotations are taken from the New International Version.